Jesus said: This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you. John 14:17 Well, it’s finally here, Pentecost – the Eighth Sunday of Easter, one of the four great baptismal feast days of the Church year, the day we celebrate the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, the birthday of the Church. This is a wonderful day, a joyful day – but it’s probably not a day you starred on your calendar and have been anticipating for weeks; that’s not surprising. First of all, the world around us can’t even pronounce the word Pentecost, let alone understand what it means. That’s OK, Jesus prepared us for that; we heard him say in today’s Gospel that the world cannot receive the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of truth, because it neither seems him nor knows him. So if the world can’t know the Spirit, we’re not going to have any help in paying attention, getting excited about or looking forward to this day. A second reason you may not have starred Pentecost on your calendar is the fact that the Holy Spirit is hard to pin down, often unexpected, can’t be put in a box. We have so many names and titles for the Spirit: Comforter, Advocate, Wind, Guide, Spirit of Truth, Counselor, Intercessor, Convicter of Sin, Witness, Teacher, Spirit of Life, Breath of God – and Jesus told us earlier in John’s Gospel that “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” There is an apocryphal account of a Japanese man struggling to come to an understanding of the Holy Spirit when he first encountered English missionaries more than a hundred years ago: "Honourable Father, very good; Honourable Son, very good; but Honourable Bird I do not understand at all." I think a lot of us can resonate with this sentiment – the Holy Spirit is hard to predict and often surprising; no wonder it may seem hard to get excited about Pentecost. And yet, the account of the giving of the Spirit in the Book of Acts is tremendously exciting! After Jesus’ resurrection on Easter day he appeared numerous times to the disciples in his new resurrection body over the course of forty days. Just before the Ascension, Jesus’ return to heaven, he told the Twelve to stay in Jerusalem until they had been clothed with power from on high – not to return to Galilee. So for the next ten days the small band of Jesus’ followers continued to meet, to pray together, to worship God. They chose Matthias as a replacement in the circle of the Twelve for Judas who had betrayed Jesus, and they waited for whatever would happen next.

And then on the Jewish Festival of Shavuot, the Feast of Weeks, the Spirit arrived with power and swiftness. Shavuot in ancient Israel was the final thanksgiving for the grain harvest, seven weeks after Passover. It was also the celebration of the giving of the Torah, the Ten Commandments, by God to the People through Moses on Mount Sinai, and so anyone who could make the pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem was supposed to do so, to give thanks to God for the gift of the Law and to renew their covenant with the Lord. So Jerusalem on Shavuot/Pentecost was filled with faithful, observant Jews from all over the Empire; Jerusalem was abuzz with activity and people and worship and celebration. And as the disciples were gathered in prayer on that day, a the sound of a wind came and blew through the house, the energy of God filled them so intensely that it looked as though flames of fire rested on each person’s head, and each one began to speak and praise God in languages they had never spoken before. This all must have gotten pretty loud and boisterous, because people in the street heard the noise and began to gather in a crowd; and then they began to recognize their own languages being spoken, telling of God’s great deeds of power – not exactly a calm, quiet, meditative group. It seems like the disciples’ prayer meeting must have spilled out into the street, because people in the crowd began to accuse them of being drunk. It was then that Peter and the leadership circle stepped forward and began to make it clear that what was happening was what had been spoken of long ago by the prophet Joel: that the Lord would pour out his Spirit on all people – young and old, male and female, slaves and free – and they would prophesy, speak with direct and intimate knowledge of the goodness and glory and purposes of God. Jerusalem had probably never seen anything like it! This is what the disciples had been waiting for; this is what Jesus had said would happen – the coming of the Holy Spirit to strengthen, guide, energize, enliven, unite, and counsel that small band of Jesus’ followers. The Spirit set them on fire with spiritual fire, holy energy, so that they had the power to tell others about what God had done in the death and resurrection of Jesus – and even more; the spirit gave Jesus’ followers the power and the divine energy to carry out Jesus’ mission even more fully – to heal the sick, to bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, give sight to the blind, to bring healing and wholeness and restoration and new life to God’s people and God’s creation.And we are still living in the power of the Spirit – for the Holy Spirit was not just given once, way back in the first century, like a dose of time-release medicine that was supposed to last for two millennia or more. The Spirit is given to each one of us in our baptism, and affirmed and strengthened in each one of us at Confirmation – that’s how it starts, but there’s so much more, and those words are far too neat and tidy. The Holy Spirit blows through our lives when and how God directs, bringing new life, new ideas, new energy. The Spirit bursts open the fences and chains we try to place around God, filling us with joy and peace and intimacy with God, just in the way that each one of us needs, according to the way the Lord made each of us. One of the most wonderful aspects of the Holy Spirit is that we are each given Spirit-inspired gifts that are unique to us, but they are given for the good of the whole, for the building up of the Church, the Body of Christ – each gift and each person working in cooperation and interdependence with one another. And all of it is so that God’s mission of loving the world and it’s people and bringing God’s Kingdom to fruition on earth as it is in heaven, can be done through us and with us as God’s partners. So, this day, this Pentecost, ask the Spirit to show you your gifts, and how you can use them, and how God can use you to be his partner in bringing joy and wholeness to the world. And then, don’t keep it to yourself! Tell someone about it – tell your spouse or your friend, tell the person who sits in the pew next to you, tell me, tell someone who needs to hear what the Holy Spirit is doing in you and through you for the glory of God. Happy Pentecost! Amen.

The one who testifies to these things says, "Surely I am coming soon." Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all the saints. Amen. Revelation 22:20-21 Down on Valley Road in the commercial section of town there is a center lane that is available to drivers whether they are in the east-bound lane or the west-bound lane. It’s convenient because it allows you to wait to make a left-hand turn without holding up all the other traffic behind you. This center lane can be a bit tricky, though, because you could easily meet someone coming head-on from the other direction who had the same idea you did, and whose destination is one or two more driveways back behind you. Nevertheless, this is a waiting lane, and even though you might have to wait a while for the traffic to pass so that you can make your turn, soon enough all will be clear and you can go ahead.

This time between Ascension Day and Pentecost is a bit like that center lane. The Church celebrated the Ascension on Thursday - the fortieth day of Easter, the time when the Risen Christ withdrew from temporal and earthly contact with the disciples to return to heaven, to take his rightful place with God the Father. In the Book of Acts Luke describes the Ascension in this way: “…as they were watching, Jesus was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. While he was going and they were gazing up towards heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. They said, ‘Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up towards heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.’”

The disciples are left there, mouths agape, not quite sure what has just happened, and the angels basically tell them to “Snap out of it.” They have a task ahead of them, and they can’t afford to stand around wondering where Jesus went. Jesus has told them that they are to be his witnesses to the Resurrection – in Judea, and in Samaria and to all the ends of the earth. But first they have to wait for God to send the Holy Spirit – to them, the disciples who are to do this work, and to all who believe and call upon the name of Jesus. And so we are in this period of waiting from the Ascension until Pentecost, until the Spirit blows in with all the power and strength and disruption that God can send. But this is not a time of void, of empty waiting.

Instead, it’s a purposeful waiting, a necessary waiting; a waiting that is active, and filled with prayer. And into this time of waiting we hear Jesus say something very important that he wants us to bear in mind as we go forward in our identity and mission as his followers. He prays for the disciples and says: "I ask not only on behalf of these [disciples], but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one… as we are one.” Jesus prays for his followers, those of the Gospel accounts, and those throughout history – including us. Jesus prays for us, that we may all be one, united in our love for God, united in finding our meaning and purpose in Christ.

This unity that Jesus prays for is not a sameness or conformity; we are not meant to be cookie-cutter Christians. In fact, God has made us each in his own image, our diversity reflecting the beauty of God’s glory in so many different ways. And just as in any family or clan or tribe, there will be differences of understanding, differences of opinion, so there will be differences and a variety of viewpoints in the Church. The unity that Jesus prayed for is the unity that God gave us in our baptism, in our celebration of the Eucharist, and in our worship. We are one because God and Jesus are one, and we have been baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus, and brought into a full and living relationship with God.

So in this waiting time, in this Ascensiontide, Jesus prays for us, for each and every one of us – praying for us to be drawn closer to God and closer to one another, praying that anything that gets in the way of our closeness to God will be removed, dissolved, set aside. And the aim of the prayer is that when the world sees the unity and closeness of Christians, then all will know that God has sent Jesus to show us the path to God. Our behavior toward one another, and our regard for our fellow Christians will have a direct bearing on what people outside of the Church will think about God. This is what Jesus is saying, and this is why we need Jesus’ prayers, because left to our own human devices we Christians can become contentious, indifferent, holding a grudge, fractious, just plain mean toward one another at times – and this most certainly in not what God wants for us or for God’s Church.

There is another way in which our life as Christian people is infused with waiting, and it’s reflected in the reading from Revelation – a short prayer that was part of the worship life of the earliest Church: “Amen. Come Lord Jesus.” The first Christians expected and longed for the day when Jesus would return to our human realm and bring to completion and perfection the work he had begun in us through the Resurrection. Our first brothers and sisters in faith knew the joy and power of Jesus’ direct presence; they also knew the promise that he would return and on that day the whole creation would fully and completely be set to rights, according to God’s purposes. But in the meantime, Jesus’ friends were to follow in his footsteps, even as we prayed for his return. We affirm this hope and belief every time we say the Creed: “He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end.”

But our sense of expectancy that Christ’s return is right around the corner has diminished – after all, two thousand years is a long time to be waiting. If you had a date to meet someone and they hadn’t showed by now, you’d probably assume that you’d been stood up! But God’s time (kairos) and human time (chronos) are not the same, they operate very differently; the hymn puts it this way: “A thousand ages in thy sight are like an evening gone.” We know this from literature – from fantasy and science fiction and ghost stories - but more recently we know it from science, as well. It’s what is called time dilation, and it is part of the theory of relativity. Time moves at different speeds as it is measured by different observers. So it’s no surprise that God’s time and human time don’t move in the same way, and not according to the way we would always like it to be. So the promise holds true. Jesus will return; he will set the world to rights; God’s New Creation which was started in the Resurrection will be fully and completely realized.

But in the meantime, we wait – and watch and work and pray. Like being in that center turning lane, we need to keep our wits about us; we can’t fall asleep at the wheel, or allow some other reckless driver to push over the edge into road rage. Life in Christ began with the Resurrection; we were grafted into it at our baptism; and Jesus - the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end - calls us to live this new life every day with joy and hope and purpose, in union with God and one another, even as we wait and pray: Come, Lord Jesus. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ Seventh Sunday of Easter: the Sunday after the Ascension May 12, 2013

This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you. John 15:9-12 This is a wonderful and glorious day – fantastic weather, a beautiful bride, a handsome groom, charming church, loving and supportive friends and family, great hymns (thank you to Alison for the gift of your hymn), a wonderful choral introit, a beautiful new psalm setting (thanks to Sean), great organ music, fabulous decorations… a perfect wedding. Jody and Shea, the staging couldn’t have been better! Jason, I hope you agree with me! There is, however, a catch in all of this…and the catch is, what we are doing here today is not a performance, it’s not a staged production, it’s real life – and I know that Shea and Jody know that very well. Coming together to exchange vows of life-long love and trust and fidelity is real life; it’s serious and joyful business. And all the rest of us are here with you to lend our support and assent, to witness those vows and to join with God in blessing you as you make them. Because real life needs God’s blessing; real life needs the support of community, family and friends; real life needs strong promises. Nearly three years ago, Jody, you cast your bread upon the waters as you moved back to the East Coast from Michigan, and I know it was rocky at first – not the least hurdle was even getting here for the interview when there was a pile-up on Route 80. But you have said that All Saints’ quickly became your church family, your community. And Shea, your former pastor and employer David is here because of the friendship and support he has given you over the years. Both of you know the importance of a loving and supportive faith community. And it’s in the context of the community of Christian faith that you have chosen to root your lives, not just have your wedding. Lives that are rooted and grounded in God and in the love that Jesus has for us and wants us to have for each other is what marriage is all about. Jesus says: This is my commandment: that you love one another, as I have loved you. Now, in a performance, this is where the music would swell, and the lights would dim, and there would be a beautiful aria, and that might be the end of it – unless of course it was opera, and then someone would die by drinking poison, or jumping off a parapet. But the kind of love that Jesus is talking about is the kind of love that is not about the love itself, but about the other person, and about the community – the community of family, the community of Church, the community of the world in which we live. The kind of love that Jesus calls us to does involve death; a dying to self, a willingness to put the welfare and interests of the other ahead of your own, a love that doesn’t always say “Me, first!”, a love that knows how to forgive and how to be forgiven. This can be hard to hear and hard to learn in our world; we are surrounded by messages everyday that tells us being self-involved and self-absorbed is the way to be. But the love of God, and true, mature human love, knows that we find the path of life by giving of ourselves, by being generous and open-hearted with one another. And the divine love in which commitment finds its deepest and most nourishing roots, is stubborn, persistent – sometimes in the face of pretty strong odds; if this were not true, God would have given up on all of us a long time ago. But God hasn’t given up on us; God came among us in the life and death and resurrection of Jesus to show us the way to wholeness and goodness and life. And so loving one another persistently, tenaciously, even stubbornly at times, is all part of the real life upon which you, Jody and Shea, are embarking. It is a life blessed by God, a life of love and service, a life of living in community – most especially the community of your own new family. We are all blessed to be here with you now; you both enrich our lives immensely; know that our prayers are with you as you launch out into this great adventure in life called marriage. The joy and the love of Christ be with you. Amen.

And the one who was seated on the throne said, "See, I am making all things new." Revelation 21:5aThis has been a long, slow spring for us here in New Jersey. The flowers and trees have blossomed in a more sedate way that what we have become used to, and people have been slow to set out their deck or patio furniture – not quite ready to commit to making the shift towards more outdoor living that comes with the advance towards summer. As it turns out, this year spring and the Easter season have coincided beautifully. As Easter unfolds week by week, and we celebrate Christ’s resurrection in many ways and from many different angles, the spring weather has brought some new growth or development each week, almost to keep pace with our spiritual and liturgical season. We are really very blessed in this, because in much warmer climates one doesn’t get that same dramatic transformation of the natural world from the barrenness of winter to the abundance of spring. And in the southern hemisphere it is autumn, facing into winter – but it is Easter, nevertheless. But here in New Jersey – at least this year – the natural world and our spiritual season have been developing in sync with one another. In the reading from the Book of Revelation this morning we hear the imagery of John’s wonderful vision of the world’s future in God’s hands: “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God … And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new.’” Making all things new… this is what God does through Jesus’ resurrection, this is the meaning of Easter – that all things, all people will be made new after the pattern of God’s purpose and intention for us. Just to be clear – there is a lot about the Book of Revelation that is confusing, hard to understand, even a little frightening as dreams often are. It grew out of a time when the then-Roman emperor Diocletian had renewed the penalty for subjects of the Empire who did not practice the Roman state religion, and who were not willing to publicly acknowledge the Emperor’s claim to also be divine. Jews and Christians both were harassed and imprisoned, and John – a Christian leader – was exiled to the island of Patmos, where he had the vision or visions that became the Book of Revelation. It was written to encourage Christians that the power, pomp and cruelty of the Empire would not have the last word, but that God really was (and is) in charge of the world, despite all appearances. One thing the Book of Revelation is not: a play-by-play plan for the end of the world. Instead, the imagery John uses describes humankind and all creation as a beautiful, harmonious and well-ordered city where Christ is at the center; where the nations come to be blessed; where there is no sorrow, pain, crying or death; where all is made new by the power and abundance of Christ’s life and love. It’s a poetic vision, a powerful vision: the Roman imperial forces had the power to regulate and control the people of the Empire, but they in no way had the power to renew all of life – only God could do that. This vision is still true for us today. The world we live in makes all kinds of claims and promises for itself: medical, legal, political, financial – but it is God who has the ultimate authority, and the power to transform hearts, minds, lives, and the whole created order. And the power that God exercises in making all things new, the power Jesus commands us to use, is the power of love. God’s love, of course, is not a feeling or an emotion; it is not romantic love or friendship or family love – although they all have their roots in God’s love. Instead, God’s love is all about taking action, like Jesus’ washing Judas’ feet at the Last Supper (from which today’s Gospel passage was taken), washing Judas’ feet even though Jesus knew that Judas would very shortly be slipping out into the night to betray him for mere cash. God’s love took action when Jesus gave himself up to death on the Cross for us; there is a saying that goes like this: “I asked Jesus, ‘How much do you love me?’ And Jesus said, ‘This much.’ Then He stretched out His arms and died.” He did this to open a way through sin and death and destruction for us, so that we may be made new, and have abundant life. And this is the love that Jesus calls us to have for one another – as Christians, as Jesus’ followers. Jesus said: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” This is the love that heals us, renews, restores us, makes us whole, prepares a place for us. God’s love brings heaven down to earth, where the home of God is among mortals, and God’s love bids us to tend and care for the people and the world God has made. God calls us and invites us and commands us to be his partners in making God’s love a reality in the world, a reality in the lives of children and women and men who need to know that before anything else – they are loved, cherished by the Author of Life and the Creator of the Universe. In this Easter season as we reflect upon all the ways that Jesus showed God’s love by dying for us and rising to new life – death and resurrection - we must remember that God’s love is not for us alone, not for our church, not for our families. God’s love, and his purposes of new life, are for everyone – and Jesus calls us to share in that work of loving and healing and transforming as the Holy Spirit directs us. So this week, as you go forth into the world, to work or neighborhood or school or home – how will you love others? How will your love and presence touch someone else? How will God, through you, begin to transform another’s life? How can you keep this new commandment – and how can we as a parish keep it in such a way that we will be known to others by the love we keep? These are all questions to ponder and pray about. They are questions to take with you on your commute. They are questions to discuss at the dinner table. But they all have the same root: How is God making you new through the power of his love, and how are you going to share that love with others so that they may be renews as well? Amen.

You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me; you have anointed my head with oil, and my cup is running over. Psalm 23:5 This has been a difficult and strangely chaotic week, on many different levels. First, there was the bombing at the Boston Marathon, killing three people and injuring well over one hundred others. Many of us have friends or relatives who live in Boston, or know someone who was running in the race; or we have a personal history with the city, and affection for it, and so the bombs at the finish line hit us hard, whether or not we knew anyone who was injured. And as I mentioned in the message I sent to the parish earlier this week, Boston and its celebration of Patriot’s Day stand for so much more than the history and events of one city; so much of Boston is woven into our national story, our sense of who we are as Americans. So the attacks cut to the quick of our identity; it hurt our souls, as well as damaging the bodies of spectators and runners. Then on Tuesday it was announced that letters containing poison had been mailed to several senators and to the President; so far no one who handled those letters seems to have become ill from them. On Wednesday, in a very emotionally laden atmosphere, the Senate voted not to close the loop hole on background checks for gun purchases on the internet and at gun shows. Given that ninety percent of the American people favored this bill, which was put forward in response to the shootings in Newtown, CT back in December, it certainly struck me personally that some of the legislators were not listening to the will of the people. Then Wednesday night late the news came through of the explosion of a fertilizer plant in West, Texas that killed fifteen people and leveled half the town. When I saw the photo of the explosion, my first thought was that it looked like a nuclear mushroom cloud. In the meantime, we all saw and heard the requests of the Boston police and FBI for any information that might lead to the identification and arrest of the bombing perpetrators. And Friday we awoke to the news that a man hunt was in progress, but not before one of the suspects was killed in a shootout, and an MIT security officer had been gunned down. With Boston, Cambridge, and Watertown in lockdown it was a very tense day, as we waited for some kind of news, some kind of resolution. Our son and his girlfriend are in graduate school in Cambridge, so Friday seemed particularly unsettling. I think the nation as a whole drew a collective sigh of relief Friday night when the second suspect was captured. And in the middle of all this we prayed: prayers of grief, anguish, confusion and anger; we prayed for healing, thanksgiving for those who survived, comfort for those who mourned. We lifted our hearts in gratitude for the police and first responders and ordinary passers-by who did what they could: made a make-shift bandage, offered a cell phone, sheltered strangers. We asked guidance for those working on the case, for the leaders. I am sure that these words ran through the hearts and minds of many: The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. It is, of course, the psalm that is most widely known and used at funerals, or in times of danger or trouble or pain. The 23rd Psalm is memorized more than any other, and we can certainly understand why. Its poetry and imagery call us to trust in God, to lay down our burden of fear, to rest in a good and protected place, knowing that God will care for us. We all know what it is to need that kind of care from God, at one time or another. We read this psalm this morning because it is the Fourth Sunday of Easter, what we sometimes call Good Shepherd Sunday; and on this day we remember in particular that in the Gospel of John Jesus refers to himself as the Good Shepherd. He was claiming for himself all of the images, memories and expectations from the Hebrew Bible of the Messiah being the Shepherd of Israel, the king who would know his flock (his people) and would guide, feed and protect them from all predators, and all who wished them harm. As we are here in Easter season, reflecting on our experience of the Risen Lord, we also claim this image; we look back to all of the longings and all of the expectations that our Biblical ancestors had for God’s Messiah, and we see them come to fruition in Jesus. So it is no surprise that this psalm speaks to us with words of comfort and peace – goodness knows we need them, especially after the week just past. However, if Jesus is our shepherd and we are his sheep, his flock, we have to follow him; we have to do what he does, walk in his ways. The psalm goes on to say: You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me; you have anointed my head with oil, and my cup is running over; or, in the King James translation: Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. In the presence of our enemies, those who trouble us – the psalm proclaims God’s goodness and abundance even in the midst of those who oppose us, trouble us, are our enemies. We have been reminded all too clearly this week that we do have enemies – perhaps because of who we are or what we represent, or maybe for reasons that will never make sense to anyone outside of the perpetrators’ minds; we may never really know. But Jesus is our shepherd; his goodness and abundance sustain us even in the presence of our enemies, and we are sustained and upheld so that we can follow Jesus’ lead, do what Jesus’ does. And Jesus very clearly had something to say about our enemies and those who trouble us. In the Gospel of Luke he says: “I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” (Luke 6:27-28). And in Matthew he puts it this way: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” (Matthew 5:43-45). There is no getting around it; Jesus asks us to pray for our enemies – and today that means the two men who made and set off the bombs at the Boston Marathon. This is hard; we don’t want to do it. But we need to remember that praying for someone does not mean that we like them, or agree with them or approve of what they have done; nor does it mean we have forgiven them. Praying for someone in this way means that we hold them in the Light of Christ, we commend them to God and God’s wisdom, not because we want them to escape punishment that may be deserved, but because we want God’s justice and mercy to be fulfilled, whatever shape that may take. The souls of these two brothers have been damaged, spoiled by the violence that has come from within them, and the violence they have done. One is now answering to God directly for his actions, the other is in custody in a hospital in serious condition until such time as he is able to be questioned as the investigation proceeds – and he most certainly will be held accountable. But there is spiritual work to be done in the days ahead, and our part of that is to pray for this young man, as hard as that may be for us – for he is still a son, a brother, a nephew, a friend; he is still a person made in the image of God, the creator and sustainer of the universe, just as we all are. Jesus the Good Shepherd loves us, sustains us, feeds us, shelters us, gives us rest and peace – and bids us to follow him – even to a place we would rather not go, even when the road is hard. But it is ultimately for the good of God’s world, and for the good of our own souls. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. Amen.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." Jesus said to him, "Feed my lambs.John 21:15 Did you ever stop to think about what Church is for? On one level that may seem like an odd question, particularly for a church like All Saints’ which has been here, on this spot, for more than a hundred years. There is no one, now living in our parish, who remembers a time when All Saints’ was not; in this age of rapid growth and turn over and change, that is a noteworthy achievement. But if all a church was for was to be a beautiful building, a lasting tribute to architectural vision and fine craftsmanship, we’d be a museum, where people could come and learn something about the past. A museum is a good thing to be, but it’s not what Church is for. A Church, any church – whether the grandest medieval cathedral or the congregation that meets in a rented storefront in Newark’s Central Ward – is a place and a group of people that worships God as God has been made known in the ministry, crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. Church is for connecting to God in a way that involves other people in the process, and then sends us out – strengthened and renewed in faith – to serve Christ in our daily lives, where ever life may take us. I hope you have actually thought about what Church is for, what faith is for. I know that for some of you this question has come to mind easily, and your answer has seemed very natural and clear. For others the question has been more of a struggle. We live in a time and society where there are over-lapping realities: on the one hand, we are awash in a multiplicity of religious faiths, traditions, and spiritualities – a whole smorgasbord of religion to choose from; on the other hand, our Western, developed world is becoming increasingly secular, increasingly stressed, increasingly indifferent to the patterns and discipline of faith and Christian community. So for a person to make a commitment to God and Jesus and Church is much more difficult now than it used to be. But the benefit to that is when a person decides that life is richer and fuller and more true lived as a follower of Jesus and as part of the Body of Christ, then it is not just checking the Church box – yup, got that covered. What we do as Christians, and as a Christian community, really goes against the grain of our individualistic society. Our culture wants us to believe that a person’s highest good is their happiness, their satisfaction, their fulfillment, their ability to do what they deem best for themselves no matter how it affects anyone else. None of those things are bad or evil, but if we out them first, make them primary, they skew our souls toward being selfish and ultimately isolate us from those around us. Church asks us to make God our highest priority, and then order the rest of our lives accordingly. In this Easter season we hear and read about the Church in its earliest days; the first reading is always from the Acts of the Apostles, its author Luke relating to us how the life of the Risen Christ was preached and taught and lived and spread from Jerusalem to Rome – to the epicenter of imperial power. And this morning is no exception. We heard the story of Saul’s encounter with the Risen Lord – Saul, in his zeal for the traditions and faith of his ancestors, persecuted Jesus’ followers. Until the day that the Lord finally got his attention – you might almost say, smacked him upside the head – temporarily struck blind. This is the man who, after some time of study and prayer with the Christians in Damascus, became the apostle Paul, the great missionary to the Gentile world. Paul’s encounter with the Risen Christ changed his life, re-oriented his priorities and perspective. And it led him to people and places and trust in God he could never have imagined when he was trapped in his anger and self-satisfaction. Also in this Easter season our Gospel readings are from John, rather than Matthew, Mark or Luke – it’s always John for Easter. At the end of Chapter 20, just before this morning’s passage starts, John tells us his reason for compiling his Gospel: “…these [signs that Jesus did in the presence of his disciples] are written so that you believe that the Messiah, the Son of God, is none other than Jesus; and that, with this faith, you may have life in his name.” So that you may have life – full, abundant, glorious life through the power and presence of Jesus. And then John goes on to give us another experience of the disciples and the Risen Lord, showing us what life in Jesus’ name looks like. The disciples are back in Galilee, having returned home after the resurrection. Peter, ever the brash and impetuous leader, announces he’s going fishing – back to the job he had before he ever met Jesus. Some of the others go with him; they push the boat off-shore, cast the large commercial nets into the lake. They worked all night, but caught nothing. Finally, as dawn was breaking, Jesus appeared on the shore and told them to cast their nets out again – in a different direction this time. The nets came up full – almost more than they could handle. And when Peter realized that it was Jesus who was directing them, he jumped out of the boat and waded ashore. Then over a breakfast of grilled fish and bread with the others, Jesus asks Peter if he loves him. After all of Peter’s boasting about his faithfulness and loyalty to Jesus during their ministry travels, and then Peter’s three-time denial of even knowing Jesus while he was being tried before the high priest on his way to death by crucifixion, Jesus now asks him: “Do you really love me more than anyone else does?” And Peter’s answer is, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Even with all his failings and imperfections, Peter loves his Lord. And Jesus gives him a new task, a new role: “Feed my sheep” – tend and take care of the flock, this new community of people who have found life in my name. Jesus is calling on the image of the Messiah as the Shepherd of Israel, a picture of God’s role amongst his people that goes back to the time of King David. And Jesus invites Peter to take a share in the role, in that image. Feed my sheep; be one who keeps the people together; guide, direct and protect them. In these two readings – from Acts, and from John – we see the two leading figures of the Church in the earliest days: Peter and Paul, each with a different role, each with a different portfolio, but both sharing the same mission – to share the Good News of the love and life that God gives in and through Jesus. The Church as the Holy Spirit was creating it at the time of these apostles, was for worship; for learning – learning to live as Jesus’ followers, according to his teachings and according to the will of God revealed through prayer and patience; and for serving God and his people in such a way that goodness, healing, joy and the abundance of life would become a reality. The Church, the People of the Way, the Body of Christ, were to be the beach head of this abundant life in the midst of all the conflicting and clamoring claims of society in the Roman Empire, where Caesar had designated himself as a divine lord. The Church spoke another truth, a more real truth, offered a true alternative, a bigger and better story. And that is still what Church is for today – to be a people who live according to the story of Jesus, to be a beach head for abundant and joyous life and love, as described by the words of the Gospels, as experienced in prayer and worship, as lived out in our community life and in our everyday work, family and personal lives. We are Church because Christ has called us, each one of us – just like Peter, just like Paul – each in our own way, and yet together. We are Church because together we can learn and reflect the love and nature of God far better than we ever can do by ourselves. We are Church because God knows it is not good for us to be alone. We are Church because God has given each one of us a role, a job, a relationship, a community to tend and care for. We are Church because God in his wisdom knows that not one of us can do the whole job. We are Church because the world needs what we have to share, whether it can see it or not. The disciples encountered the Risen Christ and their lives were changed; they became more together than they ever could have been separately. Throughout the year – and in this Easter season especially – we encounter the Risen Lord and our lives are changed, so that we, in turn, may change the world for Christ. That’s what Church is for. Amen.